Worth holding hands with.

Quick disclaimer: I’m feeling pretty fly these days. I’m liking what I see in the mirror, how I feel, what I feel like. It’s a really new place for me and oh-so-welcome.

I’ve started paying attention to what flatters me, studying how to best dress for my size, shape, and color — and giving myself permission to spend money on pretty things so long as it’s within budget. I’ve even come to accept and embrace that I have very “basic b*tch” tastes and the conceptual styles that a lot of people my age scorn, I can relish along with the most enthusiastic, no-apology-giving 14-year old.

But my favorite difference is in how I carry myself. Took 28 years — But I’m doing it!

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You see, before this – I was the chubby brown girl in a sea of white beauties. I love my friends – and celebrate how they’re made! – but I put so little effort into my appearance. Why enter a race when you’re already so far behind? And even worse: why be seen as desperate enough to try? So I wore the t-shirts of my favorite bands and sported a pony-tail *daily*. For nearly all of my teenage years.

The past few weeks I’ve been trying to put my finger on what’s different – yes I’m losing weight, but I’ve lost weight before, and was 10+ lbs lighter then. And yet, I’m loving this new me.

To be honest, I had to unpack my past (doesn’t it always come back to that?); the messages I believed and received, and chose to hold on to: Boys weren’t interested, so I wasn’t interesting; keep being funny because at least then you can score an invite; hold your breath a bit when it’s time to take the hands of the person next to you for prayer.

That last one took a while to catch on to.

When I was about 4 years old, standing in front of the church for the Children’s Message we were asked to hold our partners’ hands. Expect the little white girl paired up with me didn’t want to hold my hand because she said it was “dirty.”

And then another time when I was 15, a boy with some mental difficulties made a show of not wanting to take my hand during prayer. I’ve tried to block it out but I think he thought I was ugly and obnoxious – but I kinda believed those things too.

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Maybe these moments and messages shouldn’t matter or they wouldn’t matter to someone else; but they did to me. And they stuck with me. The footnotes at the bottom of the pages of my story; adding a tinted color to my days. But then I met Nathan and as cliche and expected as it may sound, he finally started changing the scripts in my head — or at least offering some well-needed push back: He preferred my hair curly, loved my hips, and delighted in my loud-as-can-be laugh, head tilted-back and all.

Still though, another 10 years for me to come around for myself? Well a lot’s happened. For starters, I’ve matured a heck-ton since those days. I’ve written about that process a lot on here. Adding to the list, I moved away from that small town with its small ideas of life, worth, and beauty; had two glorious children and crushing postpartum seasons; bounced around on the political spectrum. I’ve finally had the chance and the courage to befriend dark-skinned women and reveal at their beauty; a kind all its own and yet no lesser than the euro “standard.”

Now back to finger-pointing those differences in how I see myself: the weight has come off in a much kinder way this time, and I’ve made sure to appreciate my body with my words and thoughts along the way; Another big thing as been, to my utter confusion (*every.time*) new friends don’t punish me with distance or disapproval when I hold different opinions, question my faith, admitt to struggles in my marriage – I’ve began to notice along with (and apart from) my deepening facial lines, the protruding collar bones, and the waist forming that I am and always have been, an amazing creature.

Interesting just because.

Smart just because.

Worth having around just because.

Funny just because.

Because I’m me – Morgan. Flaws and all, hilarious and quirky, way too into personality typing systems, at times too ambivalent and even contradictory— but can definitely give you a resource for the problem you’re dealing with or if it’s better, be a caring friend with an ear longing to listen.

Morgan Reid

I'm wife and mama learning how to love Jesus, and love on others the way He does.
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Into crunchy and natural living; mindful parenting; social justice; and environmental advocacy. I like anything domestic (decorating, fabric arts, etc), Monet's art work, photography, ASL, and having real connections with other humans. (:
Currently living in Austin, loving all the 'weird.' Counting gifts and enjoying God. ‡
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MBTI: xSFJ. Enneagram Type 6.